Adrift In Life
by Cute Basilisk
Summary: Harry has been struggling with the story of his life ever since the death of Sirius. Bereft of any ties to his old life, will the death of Dumbledore reveal truths that will shatter any hope for Magical Europe? Alone, will Harry be able to survive the torrent of danger in his pursuit of a proper magical education! Vampire to Veela, and more magic than is probably healthy!Slow start
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter or anything you recognise! Recognition must be given to Miranda Flairgold and her story _A Second Chance at Life_. If you haven't read it, I suggest you do!

This is a story about Harry leaving Europe and Hogwarts behind him. It will start off slowly as I disassociate Harry from all the other characters and introduce new ones.

Starts at the end of Harry's Fifth year. AS of yet there are no pairings. Slight Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore bashing to start off.

Hopefully this will be a long running story.

Please Read and Review at your leisure!

Enjoy

ͽϞ Ϟͼ- Denotes parcel mouth (I was asked to make it more clear)

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

Harry sat staring at the unwelcome parchment in his hand. It was a hateful reminder of what he had lost. The letter was beautifully written. A showing of great calligraphic skill, and for all its visual appeal, it was one of the ugliest things Harry had ever seen.

The letter in question had arrived a little over a week ago, tied to the leg of, quite possibly, the most disagreeably ugly spectacled owl in existence. After pecking his head, scratching his hand open and leaving a trail of pellets on his desk, it had proceeded to loudly batter its way through his trunk before finally settling on Hedwig's stand. Another savage peck was delivered before Harry managed to pull the letter from its vicious talons. The first thing Harry noted was the Gringotts logo shining from the folded parchment, casting a warm glow on his face. The next was the name it as addressed to; Harry James Potter, Lord of the most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. That was new. Pushing this new development from his mind, he broke the wax seal and began to read. It was a short note, polite, but to the point. It read as follows:

 _To whomever it may concern,_

 _It is with great regret that we inform you of the reading of the Last Will and Testament of one, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. We regret your loss and send with this letter our condolences._

 _The reading will take place with accordance to tradition, one year and one month from the time of death. All are required to attend Gringotts Bank, Inheritance Court Chamber No. 4, on the seventh of July, no later than 10 am. Those that fail to appear by the allotted time forfeit all rights and entitlement to the items pertained in the Will._

 _May your vaults overflow with gold,_

 _Gringotts Bank._

Harry hated it. It was a glaring reminder of the mistakes made in the Department of Mysteries just under a year ago. He still had nightmares of Sirius falling into the Vail, of this following duel with Bellatrix and his attempt at the _Cruciatus_... He was sickened by the gleehe felt torturing the psycho bitch. He had actually enjoyed watching her suffer for what she took from him. More than just a father figure, but also the hope for a loving family and an escape from the hell of the Dursleys.

Harry's thoughts were wondering again.

It was hard not to when he thought over the last year. Right since the end of his fifth year actually. It seemed like his sixth year was just one terrible, world changing truth after the next. The shock and horror, at the level of manipulation Dumbledore and the rest of the Order had partaken in... Harry felt physically ill remembering it.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

 _Harry sat alone in the library. It had barely been fortnight since the Department of Mysteries and he was still feeling numb from the loss of his Godfather. In the hours and days following, people were lining up to give their condolences and advice on how to deal with his grief. Ron had awkwardly patted his back and told to 'chin up, 'least you didn't know him for too long'. Harry gave him a black eye for that one, which led to a lecture about controlling his temper, with a seemingly subtle 'I told you so' mixed in. After the fourth day Harry began to shut himself away._

 _The library was his favourite retreat due to the near absolute silence around him. It didn't take him long to begin to retreat into books and the comfort he could find between their covers. He started with Defence books, but soon started on transfiguration. He wanted to know how Dumbledore had done all those crazy conjuration, animation and transfiguration spells in his duel with Voldemort. Transfiguration led to Charms and then to Ancient Runes. Harry devoured it all in an attempt to drive his grief back. He spent most of his time reading, skipping meals and often sleeping in the library._

 _I t was during one of these reading retreats that he heard the scuffling of feet close to his nook in the library. At this time of year, with exams over and the summer holiday looming, the library was almost totally deserted. A rare surge of curiosity carried him to his feet in pursuit of the sound. Looking left and right Harry tried to see if there was anyone on this row of shelves. Deciding that it must have come from a row over, he set off. His soft foot falls pattering on the cold stones of the floor were muffled by the mass of books around him, and it took just a moment to come in range of the soft whispering of a voice. Creeping a bit closer, the identity of the speaker become clear. Hermione was softly talking to someone. Curiosity peaking, Harry crept a little closer to hear what she was saying._

 _"... can't keep this up much longer Ron!" She sounded frustrated about something. Now that was odd. Ron seemed to have an almost pathological aversion to setting foot in the library. It was one of the reasons Harry had originally chosen it as his hidey hole._

 _"Don't worry 'Mione, we'll drop the act soon." Ron seemed to be trying to placate her. Again, strange. Sure they were growing closer since fourth year, but Ron almost never helped Hermione with anything, and what was this act they were talking about?_

 _"We've been at this since first year! Sure the money's nice, but it's a nightmare to actually pretend to like him." Harry was struggling to follow the train of thought without context, but a small doubt was starting to form in his mind._

 _"Look, as soon as Ginny slips him the amortentia, we can drop Harry and just forget about the last five years, how does that sound?"_

 _Harry was stunned. If he hadn't already been in sock, he would likely have fallen over. That small niggle of doubt exploded into a full blown realization. Sure Ron was a jealous prick, but they always made up. He was a good guy, usually. Harry tried desperately to convince himself he hadn't heard anything, but a small part of him kept pointing out facts to him. The way he had forced himself onto Harry in the first year. The accusations in the second. Biggest of all was the way Ron dropped him like he couldn't get away fast enough during the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year._

 _More and more facts and examples popped up in his head. Hermione was just the same. The bossy attitude, the seemingly never-ending clashing, the nagging and most of all her seemingly religious adherence and trust in authority figures. She had even told him that he was over exaggerating his treatment by the Dursleys. Realization was washing over him in waves now. Ginny's sudden interest in him again after getting over her crush in her second year._

 _Harry was officially panicking. All the new found information was starting to overwhelm him. If the previous shocking announcements weren't enough, the moan coming from Hermione was enough to jolt him into movement. Retreating, Harry felt sick to the core. He felt adrift in life, lost and confused. Was his life truly just a lie? Something engineered by some not yet seen higher power._

 _Harry stumbled back to his books, trying to find stability in his sudden new confusion._

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

The discovery of his 'friends'' betrayal was just the beginning of his decent into the proverbial rabbit hole. The next great reveal of the ugly underbelly of his life came two months later, with a message from the Weasley twins. The letter was short and sweat. Just a one line.

 _We need to talk._

The same day that the letter was delivered, the twins dropped by the Burrow. As soon as they were through the door, Molly Weasley was bustling about them and fussing over them. Harry looked on the scene with a hint of sadness. Just another thing he would never have.

"Afternoon Harry!" The twins chorused happily. Harry let out a small grin. It was impossible to be sad with Fred and George around. Harry walked over and greeted them in return. As Molly moved away from the trio, the twins grabbed Harry and hauled him out back to the garden shed.

"Look mate, -" Fred began, or maybe it was George.

"-We've got some bad news." Finished George, or maybe it was Fred.

"We swear we didn't know."

"Just heard 'bout it ourselves."

"We would have-"

"-Told you sooner,-"

"-If we knew before!" They finished together.

"Guys, I have idea what you're talking about, "Harry managed to get out after the twins odd confession, " and what the hell are we doing in the shed?"

"We, uh, we learned something pretty big, Harry."

"Yeah, turns out our mum's been taking money from Dumbledore since your first year."

"So?" Harry was starting to get that same sinking feeling in his stomach. "Maybe she's just doing some work for him?"

"Oh, she's doing work for him alright, -" Fred sounded pretty bitter as he said it, or maybe that was George.

"- we heard her speaking all about her work." The twins' expressions were dark, and it might have been the first time he had ever seen the twins actually angry.

"Ever thought why a wizard family was taking the muggle entrance to the Hogwarts Express?"

"That does seem... Odd?" The thought had never really crossed his mind before, but now that he thought about it, it really did make no sense for a wizarding family to be standing around loudly announcing their intentions to get to the train. "Guys, please, just get to the point."

"Right Harry, -"

"- Just a little hard to say."

"It's pretty grim."

"Please, just tell me!" Harry shoved his way in before they could get off track again.

"Right, -"

"- Turns out our mum's been taking money to keep you close, Harry."

"That's not all, looks like Ron and Ginny were both in on it as well."

Harry just sat down on the hard ground. Tears long since spent over Sirius, all he could do was stare listlessly at the ground before him. The twins just looked at him, feeling uncomfortable and confused as to what to do. Eventually they crouched down on either side of him and put his arms over their shoulders, lifting him to his feet.

"Hey, buck up mate, you've still got us. Isn't that right, brother?"

"Indeed it is, brother! Can hardly abandon our unofficial triplet, can we?"

"Certainly not, dear brother!"

Harry just looked confused at them, his numb brain struggling to process anything more.

Fred and George took a look at his questioning stare, and then at one another.

"What we meant to say," The twins began in unison, "Is that we count you as one of us."

Harry gave a weary smile and just nodded his head, pulling the guys into something of a group hug.

"Right, now that that's done, just know we're on your side with this, alright?"

"Absolutely, brothers Gred and Forge." Harry said, letting out a small grin and a chuckle.

"Great! Now, we just need to get you back inside." The twins said, grinning back at him.

Together the three of them headed back inside, exchanging banter in the hope of chasing off the last of the depressing mood. It didn't take long for the twins to have Harry laughing along with their antics.

The three of them talked well into the evening on trivial matters such as the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the pranks they were planning and any number of other topics. After dinner they got down to business, talking about new products and the search for a good location to open up their joke shop. By the time the twins left, Harry was feeling better than he had since Sirius' death.

That night, laying in his bed next to the snoring body of his once best friend, Harry thought about another severed tie in his life. The last few points holding him to his life were starting to look rather strained. In fact, it was only Remus that really seemed to be holding him down.

-Ȳ-

The twin's visit was the last time anyone saw Harry smile that holiday.

He locked himself away, spending hours pouring over his books. Harry kept up a running chain of letters with the twins, sending them a book list and a small pouch of Galleons to add to his ever growing library. About the only practical work he could get away with was brewing, so that's what he did. Every potion all the way from first year, all done again until he could do it blind folded. When he could do that, he began to jump forward with his material.

Harry was a sponge. When he was small his teachers had praised him for his bright young mind and keen memory, right up until the Dursleys beat mediocrity into him with a belt. Now, with nothing to lose, Harry went about making up for a decade of stunted learning. Notes on parchment were recopied into the leather bound journals he had started to keep, and the number of used ones was quickly growing.

Meals were the one time that the household could reliably see Harry outside of his room. Years with little food had given him a true enjoyment for three meals a day. Harry was paler than ever, with bags under his eyes from days without sleep. Conversation seemed to result in nothing more than nods and grunts, with the rare occurrence of something approaching a full sentence.

For the most part people got the message that he was sending out. Even Ron, stubborn as he was eventually gave up trying to get Harry to get involved with the summer activities. He got a sick sort of pleasure when he caught Hermione trying to break the locks on his trunk one night. She had been bugging him about what he was spending so much time locked in his room far, and when no answers were forth coming, had decided to take matters into her own hands. The tongue lashing he had laid into her with was probably the most emotion anyone had seen from him the holiday.

Molly Weasley was the one exception to Harry's new found isolation.

"Harry dear, you can't eat so little! You're skinny enough as is!" The insistent nattering and nagging was enough to drive him to insanity. Merlin himself would struggle to deal with the woman when she went off on one of her legendary rants. To date, he still thought he had a ringing one in his left ear when she caught him sending Hedwig off with another letter to the twins.

-Ȳ-

 _Harry had just finished with his latest book list from the twins to grab for him. Recently he had been delving into a bit of spell creation and found his arithmancy severely lacking with just a third year text book to guide him. Arithmancy: The Power of Words seemed like a decent next step. A few more roles of parchment for his rough notes wouldn't be remise either._

 _Folding the parchment over a few Galleons, Harry wandered down the stairs to try find Hedwig. From the cacophony of noise coming from outside, there was an impromptu inter-family quidditch match under way. That meant there was no one keeping an eye on him at the moment._

 _Perfect._

 _Hedwig was sitting sedately in the empty kitchen with a frantic Pigwidgeon flittering about her. Turning her head to face him, she let out an irate bark at him. Harry chuckled._

 _"He bothering you girl?" The affirmative bob of her head made him laugh aloud._

 _"Well don't worry, I've got another letter for the twins for you. Get you away from him for a while at least." Hedwig nibbled at his fingers as he tied the small parcel to her leg._

 _Scooping her up onto his arm he headed towards the front door of the Burrow, away from the cheerful sounds coming from the garden._

 _As Harry opened the door, he heard the volume from outside flood into the house behind him. Shit, someone was coming in. Hurrying outside, he almost tossed Hedwig away, and with an angry hoot she was off. Just in time as well._

 _"_ Harry James Potter, w _hat on earth are you doing with that owl!?" Damn, Mrs. Weasley had a set of lungs on her. Probably vital in dealing with a family of six boys. He sighed._

 _"Sending a letter."_

 _"Don't give me that tone young man! You know Professor Dumbledore said you were not to send any mail! With He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the move it's too dangerous for you, Harry."_

 _"Mrs. Weasley, with all due respect. You are not my mother, neither is Dumbledore my father. You have no say in my life, and he has no authority over me, outside of the school term."_

 _"While, I never... "Mrs. Weasley sounded shocked, then her face started to colour with anger again. "After everything we've done for you? We put a roof over your head and food in your mouth, and this, this is the thanks you give?"_

 _"You mean the roof and food you were paid to provide?" It was a testament to just how little sleep Harry had had that he let the remark slip. He was usually more guarded than that. Years with Uncle Vernon's temper had taught him to watch what he said, but maybe it was a bout of luck that he did._

 _Mrs. Weasley froze, and the blood drained from her face._

 _That was all he needed to see. It was a confirmation of everything he had heard and feared._

-Ȳ-

There was another problem that seemed to come up with a strange frequency around him. Professor Albus Dumbledore. At every turn he was faced with the awesome reputation and hero worship that he held. To be honest, now that he had had time to think on it, it was more than a little worrying. It seemed that the whole wizarding world was willing to bend over backwards if Dumbledore asked. The few exceptions were what was left of Voldemort's supporters, and were even more open in their obedience to their master.

Actually, there were a lot of similarities between the two, now that he looked back on it... Things were getting out of control fast. Dumbledore was the leader of the _Light_ for heaven's sake! There was no way he could be anything like Voldemort.

Harry shoved the errant thoughts aside viciously. It was all too much for him to handle right now. The anger at Dumbledore was still far too raw and close to the surface. That damned _prophecy_! The entire situation infuriated him! His entire life, planned out in one forsaken _faculty_ meeting! It wasn't even meant to be important! His entire existence mapped before he was even born.

Harry raged at the injustice. The hot flames or anger burning past his attempt to push it away.

Every beating, every rude word, every missed meal, every moment spent as less than human. All traced back to a span of less than a full minute. All traced back to a bad decision. Harry couldn't decide exactly whose bad decision, but somewhere along the line, someone had started him on this path. He wasn't even sure if it was his parents' fault for choosing Peter as a secret keeper. He could have been adopted by another family. Anyone else would have been better! Damn Hagrid for taking him, damn Dumbledore putting him there, and damn everyone else for leaving him there.

How _dare_ fate try and pull him in to some grand destiny, without a care as to the tool of its execution! That he was The Order's, no, _Dumbledore's_ secret weapon made his blood boil. He felt like he had wasted the last five years of his life on trivial pursuits... And why the _hell_ had he taken Divination and Care for Magical Creatures. Completely _useless_! Almost anything else would have been a better choice! Ancient runes would have been brilliant! Arithmancy as well!

On that note, why wasn't he receiving any training? Where was the preparation to face the most feared Dark Lord of their time? He barely had an average fifth year education, and next to no real experience. He still felt the overwhelming awe at seeing the duel in the Ministry between Dumbledore and Voldemort. Some of the things they had done? He had never even _thought_ of the possibilities of using Transfiguration like that! And the Power! Oh God, the raw power that the two of them were showing off terrified him.

How on God's green Earth was he supposed to stand up to that? He felt like a small gnat, buzzing around Titans.

Harry hated feeling weak. He _hated_ it. It reminded him of all the time he spent alone in his cupboard, unable to a damn thing for himself. He still remembered praying for God to take him away. Begging to be taken to see his parents. Until one day, he gave up waiting for an answer. It was the day that he decided he would never cry in front of the Dursleys again. Would never show them a moment of weakness.

Harry felt that self-same feeling of steely determination wash over him. It didn't matter what it took, no matter how hard or how long, he would never be like that again. If he needed power, he would find it. Dumbledore had to know by now that harry needed to know more to even stand a chance. He had promised to teach him more. Harry felt small stirrings in the embers of his burnt out heart.

Could it be, just maybe, that he had a twinge of hope again?


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's trip to King's Cross Station was less than pleasant.

"Why the hell do we have many body guards?" He grumbled.

"Your fault, mate!" That was George. Harry was pretty sure about that… Or maybe it was Fred?

"Yeah, need to show off somehow, Harry!" The other half chorused.

"Fred, George. Shut up."

"Aww! Look, we got 'ickle Harry all upset!" George started, mirth dripping from his voice.

"You know Harry-"

"-It's alright to be yourself."

"If you need someone to hold your hand-"

"-We'll happily help you out!" They finished together. The damn twin speak was freaky as all hell.

Harry just grunted at their antics. He felt a little too bitter about the amount of attention that they were drawing due to the four aurors that were surrounding himself, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley clan, to appreciate them trying to cheer him up. Still, it was good to see the two of them again. They hadn't been back to the Burrow since their conversation, supposedly too busy moving into the flat just over the beginnings of their store at No. 93 Diagon Alley. Apparently the mail orders that the twins had been running had really started to pick up now, and it wouldn't take too much more before they were ready to open up Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. At the end of the school year was the date they and Harry had decided on. Honestly it was probably the only thing he had to look forward to in the next year.

Through all the mayhem and mishmash of people, that trunks were safely secured, and everyone piled in onto the train. Ron and Hermione peeled off from the rest of the group to head to the front carriage for the prefects meeting, while everyone else started off towards the back. Ginny left early to join a compartment with her year mate, Luna. This left Harry as the only one to search out a compartment.

There seemed to a huge number of new first years, despite the fear of Voldemort's return. This in turn led to the fact that the entire train was full. The last compartment of the last carriage was the only one that had an open seat. Inside appeared to be four first years and Neville Longbottom.

Neville looked terrible. He looked almost as bad as Harry felt. Bags under his eyes, hair dishevelled and clothes crumpled. It even looked like me may have had the wispy starts to a beard.

"Hey Nev, you look like shite mate." Harry tried to affect a cheery disposition, but it came out sounding hollow and drawn. Neville's head shot up and his eyes snapped into focus on Harry.

"Oh, hi Harry." Neville sounded exhausted. "Yeah… haven't slept right since… You know…" An awkward silence descended on the cabin as the first years fell quite. God, Harry hadn't even thought to check on the group he had dragged with him to the Department of Mysteries! He felt like kicking himself.

He hated himself. He felt like a coward, but he couldn't face the memory of that day again just yet. So in an effort to pull the conversation away from the painful topic, he turned to the rest of the compartment's occupants.

"So, you're all first years?" Harry asked, "My name is Harry Potter, and I'm sure you'll enjoy your time at Hogwarts." His voice sounded more strained than he had wanted. Hopefully the smaller kids wouldn't notice.

The small girl by the window the first to build up the courage to answer his question. She couldn't have been much over four and a half feet tall. Big blue eyes set into a heart shaped face, framed by long straight hair, dark as midnight, stared up at him. One look at her and you knew that in a few years she was going to be beating the boys off with a stick.

"Um… My name's Sarah O'Connell…" She managed to squeak out. Harry frowned. He wasn't that scary, was he? Luckily, this seemed to all that was needed to break the proverbial ice, and suddenly all the mouths started opening to introduce the owners.

Harry leaned that all four of them had been long time family friends, living in a small town on the outskirts of Colerain, in Northern Ireland. All of them had received their Hogwarts letters and proceeded to drag their parents all over Diagon Alley in exploration of the largest magical shopping district in Britain. The lone boy in the group, Sean O'Connell, an almost picture copy of his sister, with the same big blue eyes and raven hair, seemed less than pleased at the memory of the expedition. Harry could sympathise with the poor bloke. He had been dragged around behind the female Weasleys once, and had vowed never to be coerced into that again. The memory still caused a shiver to slide down his back.

Eventually Neville got caught up in the group activities when the exploding snap deck was pulled out. Poor guy got nailed first time, caught with his metaphorical pants down when the card exploded in his hand after barely a single round.

After an indiscernible amount of time, their cabin door was roughly shoved open with a loud bang.

"Harry, there you are mate! We been looking for you everywhere!" Ron stood at the entrance looking almost expectant. "Trolley's just up the corridor and I want some chocolate frogs!"

"Come on Harry, let's get to our cabin, we've found space for us just in the next carriage. You're welcome by the way." Hermione's bushy hair appeared by Ron's shoulder.

Harry suddenly felt angry again. How dare they walk up and presume. God, Ron's gluttony and Hermione's bossy nature suddenly grated him the wrong way. He had always over looked any character flaws either of them nay have had because they were the first friends that he had ever had. Now, with the memory of their conversation at the end of the year, Harry got angry.

Suddenly, the hot fire eating away at the edges of his vision burnt with a cold clarity. Calmly getting up, he walked towards the door. He looked into Ron's eyes, and found all he needed to see. The glint of greed shone hungrily between his beady eyes.

As soon as Ron was within range, Harry struck. It wasn't a particularly hard kick. Harry didn't weigh enough to do any real damage. It was more of a violent shove really. Still, it did the job. Ron was flung from the doorway into the wall of the corridor. The look of shock on Hermione's face was all the justification he would ever need. The look of pure shock on the self-proclaimed 'brightest' witch of their generation was utterly priceless.

Quickly sliding the door shut, Harry placed a silencing charm, a locking charm, and a minor transfiguration on the door, making it slightly too large to open. Looking around, he saw five faces containing the same shocked look.

Harry cocked his head to one side, fixing a puzzled expression on his face.

"What?"

Neville fell out of his seat.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

The start of the year went about as smoothly as he could expect. Which is to say, it was utter misery and mayhem from his first step off the train.

The weather seemed to be adamant that they should not reach their destination. The massive sheets of water came down in an almost solid wall, reducing visibility to no more than a few inches in front of your face. By the time everyone got to the carriages, not even a drying charm seemed to make a difference to their dripping robes.

Shivering, everyone piled into the warm atmosphere in the Great Hall. Large balls of conjured flames floated every twelve feet over each house table, spreading a lovely, cosy atmosphere to the room. The charmed ceiling showed only a calm and peaceful night sky.

The sorting went well over all. Sarah ended up in Gryffindor, and her brother Sean was sent to Ravenclaw. It was quite funny to see her fiery curiosity and adventurous spirit juxtaposed next to the quite calm brother's presence. Sarah spent the whole feast bouncing on the benches next to Harry, and her head seemed to be on a swivel, trying to take in all the sights.

Honestly, other than the glares being sent his way by Ron and Hermione, he thought I was actually quite pleasant. Of course, that was right up until Dumbledore announced the changes to faculty. Professor Slughorn back for Potions didn't seem too bad, at least he would let him into the N.E.W.T. program. He could even deal with the guy staring at him throughout the feast. It was the Defence teacher that knocked the wind out of his sails. Followed by kicking him in the fork of his legs… And then proceeding to kick his head in while he was on the ground.

Snape.

It seemed like someone out there really had a sick sense of humour.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

Harry's first potions lesson was rather interesting, all things considered. The entire classroom had a different air abought it, like the gloom had been somewhat lifted. Whether this was just Harry's joy at avoiding Snape, or the general cheer generated by the exuberant Professor Slughorn was up to debate.

To be completely honest, it may just have been the discovery of the Half-Blood Prince. The guy must have been a prodigy at potions! The ink scribbles, done in a surprisingly neat and flowing hand, held more useful instructions and tips than the actual text.

This lead Harry to the top of the class at short notice, something that, judging by Hermione's thunderous look, greatly vexed and confused a number of people. In fact, she looked positively murderous! However, when combined with her bushy hair, this was neither imposing nor attractive.

And not nearly as intimidating as she wished.

Honestly though. Harry was rather disappointed by the contents of their curriculum. Everything was rather… random. Sure knowing how to brew a draught of the living death was cool and all, but it seemed rather insignificant compared to the more useful things, like PepperUp and Dreamless Sleep.

Harry hated to admit it, but Snape was a decent Defence teacher. While still very unpleasant, he did seem to know what he was doing, and was covering information and spells that actually seemed relevant.

Every other class was exactly the same as the previous year. Sure, they seemed at least interesting, but honestly there seemed to be very little depth to anything, especially considering that this was N.E.W.T. level. Divination was as useless as ever and hated his own foolishness in choosing to follow Ron's choice of subject.

To be truthful, Harry felt like he was wasting his time. With Voldemort on the loose again, he needed to know how to fight him, and while Potions was alright, a standard education was _not_ what he needed right now.

At least Dumbledore had agreed to train him. He just hoped it was a bit better than the standard Hogwarts education. Just the thought of going up against Voldemort with nothing more than a very haphazard and basic Hogwarts education actually made him shiver.

He would be dead in minutes. All of his previous escapes had been nothing more than blind luck, to be honest.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

Harry was _furious_!

It was like every little piece of anger he had shoved down over his disproportionately harsh life had come bubbl- no, _frothing_ back up!

He felt righteous anger course through him. Well, maybe not righteous, but it felt damn right to be this angry!

Simply put, Dumbledore was either completely insane, or wanted him to die.

His first actual training with him was nothing more than a memory trip in his pensive to Tom Riddle's past. No spells or theory, no bits of advice or direction, just an insight into the tragic childhood of one orphan boy. Yeah, been there, lived that. And when he had asked Dumbledore what the 'Power he knows not' was, his answer was less than satisfactory.

Who on God's green Earth could possibly believe that the secret to defeating Voldemort was ' _Love_ '? Honestly, Dumbledore must be going senile.

And as the first half of the school year was drawing to a close, with nothing more done to help him prepare, Harry needed to do something.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

Harry needed time. Time, space, and secrecy. Ideally he would have used the Room of Requirements, but after the DA training last year, too many people knew where and what it was, including Ron and Hermione, which meant that Dumbledore almost certainly knew. So he needed something knew.

He walked into the solution, almost literally, if that were possible.

Moaning Myrtle's wailing could be heard all the way from the other end of the second floor corridor. It was different from her usual crying, which was more like snivelling to be honest. This was heart wrenching sobbing.

Concerned, harry rushed to the bathroom. Inside, the floor was completely flooded. The mirrors were cracked and covered in paint, with harsh insults and writing scrawled all over the walls, some sinks and toilets were shattered, and in the middle of it all sat Myrtle.

At the sound of his feet splashing through the water, her chin snapped up. Harry was shocked at her expression. She looked… broken. There was no better way to describe the pain etched into every plane and line of her ethereal face. The worst was her eyes. As clichéd as it was, her eyes were haunting, throwing up images of horrific pain scarred into a soul. Harry recognized those eyes. He saw them staring back at him sometimes, when he looked in a mirror.

Edging forward slowly in an attempt to avoid scaring her off, Harry began to talk to her slowly and quietly.

"Hey Myrtle, shhh, calm down," He started with something harmless, "You're going to be okay."

This only served to start her crying up again. Harry was out of his element. Give him dangerous and impossible situations and sure, he'd come out on top, but give him a crying girl and he was panicking. He had absolutely no idea what to do. He had never been comforted in his life, and had never had anyone who needed his comforting. Sixteen years of relying on himself had stunted that part of him.

Trying again he kept the mild panic from his voice. "Hey, come on, speak to me?" It was phrased as more of a question than a request. Wonder of wonders, Myrtle actually did respond.

"Why should I? No one cares about poor Moaning Myrtle…" The voice was heartbroken and utterly depressed.

"That's not true Myrtle, I care, and I want to know."

Sniffing, she looked at him, a glimmer of some emotion in her eyes now.

"Do… Do you really?" The hope and longing in her small voice made Harry smile one of his scarce genuine smiles.

"Of course I do Myrtle. I mean, you invited me to share your toilet, remember?"

She gave him a small smile in return.

"It's… It's the girls… They came in here and started teasing me and breaking everything… It was like I was alive again, and everyone was hurting me… I just remembered everything that happened to me." She shuddered out a breath. "It hurt so much… I didn't know ghosts could actually _hurt_."

"Hey, it's alright. I'm not going to do anything like that." He sat down in the ankle deep water next to her. The depression and tension in the air had eased somewhat, and in an attempt to move on to more cheerful topics, Harry asked for her help.

"Hey Myrtle, you don't happen to know somewhere safe and secret in this castle, do you? I need some time away from everything to be honest."

Myrtle gave him a look that said "Are you stupid", and began to giggle. The giggle soon turned into a proper laugh, then dissolved into her rolling around in the air trying to stop.

Feeling rather put out, Harry tried to retain his dignity. A challenging task when you're sitting in water and damp as a drowned rat. Still, it was an admirable attempt.

"Harry, don't you remember second year?" She gave him a significant look.

"Yeah, it was a bloody nightmare. Between Lockhart and the Heir of Slytherin nonsense, I'm surprised I passed!"

"You are a bit dense, aren't you?" Myrtle giggled out.

Feeling very put out by now, he glared at her. There was no real heat behind the motion though.

"Well, what do you mean then?"

"Silly! What did you find in here?"

"You, of course and…" The realisation struck him like a bolt of lightning. He actually froze up. How could he have possibly forgotten about it?

"The Chamber of Secrets… God I'm an _idiot_!" he exclaimed

Myrtle just started chortling again.

The chamber was _perfect_. No one but he could enter it, and no one would think to look in there for Harry. It had plenty of space, and that far underground, no one would be able to hear anything that he did. He would be free to cast any and every spell he wanted. The idea of being _free_ intoxicated him with possibility.

"Myrtle, you are a genius!"

Rushing over to the sink with the small snake carved on the spigot, he hissed. "ͽϞ _Open!_ Ϟͼ _"_

With the same grinding sound as it had in his second year, the sink sank slowly into the floor, revealing a dark hole behind. Sticking his head in, he grimaced at the state of the tunnel. It was just as grimy and slimy as he remembered it.

Gritting his teeth and swinging his legs in, he began his harrowing ride down to the Chamber.

The twisting tunnel came to an abrupt end in the darkness and Harry was thrown unceremoniously into a heap. Groaning he sat up, casting a simple _Lumos,_ and looked around. The tunnel was just as he remembered, with the collapsed rubble moved around and scattered in order to clear the way.

The massive door that dictated the beginning of the true chamber sat open as he had left it. Huge and intimidating, but beautiful in its design. Harry hadn't stopped to look at it last time, what with the panic he was under at the time. It was beautiful. The entire thing was covered in scripture, done in a language he didn't recognize. Elegant and flowing, just looking at the twisting characters gave a sense of motion. The more he looked at it, the more he was sure he _knew_ what was written there.

Shaking the odd feeling off, he entered into the chamber. The same strange luminescence that had lit the chamber previously slowly came back, illuminating the cavernous space. And in that space lay the corpse of the basilisk.

The huge snake lay motionless in the centre of the chamber. With time to look, it was much larger then he remembered. The original sixty foot estimation paled in comparison to the true bulk. Perhaps a full one hundred feet long, and being about four or five feet at its' thickest, it was a true monstrosity.

As he approached it, he noticed something strange. The entire corpse seemed as fresh as the day it had died. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought it had only died minutes before. Other than the missing fang and the blind, mutilated eyes, it may have just decided to lay down. With this strange occurrence firmly lodged in his mind, Harry began to explore.

The chamber itself seemed to somewhat like the grand entrance to Hogwarts. Other than the massive pillars along its length, it didn't really have anything. Certainly nothing that seemed particularly secret, and absolutely nothing that deserved the plural.

So, where were the secrets?

Walking along the length, Harry approached the giant carving of a face on the other side of the room. The one that the basilisk had exited from. Standing in front of it, he wracked his brain in an attempt to remember how Tom had opened it in the first place… Something about speaking.

He groaned in frustration at his inability to remember. Angrily, he hissed out. "ͽϞ _Open, you useless hunk of rock!_ Ϟͼ _"_

And to his great surprise, that's exactly what happened. As the statue's mouth slowly groaned open, he could only watch on in shock that his curse had actually managed to open the thing. With nervous apprehension, he stepped through, into a large corridor leading further in. He followed the gentle slope further down into the bowls of the earth, apprehension building with each step downward.

The corridor started to widen out, the ceiling growing further and further away from his head. And in the distance, a bright light could be seen. Approaching it, there was a door, larger and even more impressive and imposing than the one guarding the entrance to the Chamber.

This time, he could understand the strange script emblazoned on the door.

 _For those who seek_

 _Secrets ancient and old_

 _Shall discover what_

 _Should never be known_

 _And if you should_

 _Be deemed unworthy_

 _You shall fail_

 _Upon this journey_

Harry felt his pulse skyrocket at the last line. There seemed to be a heavy presence pressing down on him as he stood before the doors. Carefully, his hand trembling only slightly, he pressed against it.

A soft hiss filled the air around him, and the door pulsed a violent green colour once, before it gently swung open.

As Harry looked inside, he let out a gasp of wonder and awe.


	3. Chapter 3

Alright ladies and gents, here is the next chapter!

To everyone who is following this story, thank you! It's really heartening to see the support!

To the people you wrote a review, I love you guys! It's really nice to hear from you.

Please tell me if you think the story is jumping too much/not enough. Feedback is definitely appreciated.

ͽϞ Ϟͼ- Denotes parcel tongue.

ͽ ͼ- Denotes parcel script when needed.

Ῐ Ῐ- Denotes writings of the… Well you'll see!

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

By the time Harry returned from the Chamber, something had changed.

Myrtle considered herself somewhat of an expert on depression and nerves. She had been, after all, a Ravenclaw. Exam time in the Ravenclaw common room was akin to something out of a mental asylum. Facts and phrases mumbled under breaths, while hair was pulled and eyes stared wildly and the acres of parchment spread everywhere. To be honest, it was not an environment conducive to studying.

The teasing had always been the worst during the exam times.

The period after exams was almost worse. The seemed to be a dichotomy of emotional extremes floating around. The massive after exam high was like a low buzz in the rooms and halls, with hushed conversations taking place, ranging from holiday pursuits to reflections on the papers. If the excitement was like a buzz, the depression was akin to a dark cloud. It gathered in corners, and could be seen as a slow trudge of the doomed as they moved around the castle. It was worst in the common room. The split often resulted in insults and jeering between the two sides.

When Harry had walked in on her crying, at first she didn't even recognise who he was. A cold dread had settled on her at the thought of having another round of jeering.

And then he had tried to _comfort_ her! That was something she had never expected, and had little to no experience with. To be honest, his bubbling attempts to make her feel better had been rather endearing.

When she had calmed down enough to actually look at him, he looked like a bit of a wreck. While it wasn't really depression, it was certainly stress. It seemed like every muscle was clenched subconsciously. There seemed to be a nervous energy bouncing just beneath his taught skin.

His eyes were those of a caged predator. They were sharp and hard, concealing a boundless energy. The green of his eyes almost seemed to glow with startling intensity, but seemed to be looking at something a thousand miles away.

But now, his eyes were focused, and a small smirk seemed to be playing on his lips. While the tension wasn't completely gone, it seemed that they were coiled in anticipation now, instead of stress. In fact, if she hadn't known better, she may not have really recognized him as the boy who had tried to comfort her hours earlier.

What stood in front of her now was a young man, taking steps towards what he would one day become. The schoolgirl still inside of her felt her emotions flutter at the sight.

"Hello, Harry." She said in a small voice, stumbling over her words.

Oh god, she wanted to die of embarrassment… Again.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

"Hello, Harry."

His eyes focused onto her. The small voice held a note of trepidation in it.

"Hi, Myrtle." His mouth curved into a full smile.

It felt like a lifetime since he had talked to her in this bathroom, though in truth it couldn't have been more than a few hours. Still, he felt refreshed, almost like a new person. A sense of determination filled him. A real drive that he lacked before. He was honestly shocked that he could have gone this far in life missing out on it. He felt good. Better than he had ever before. It was exhilarating.

He needed a way to thank her for giving him the idea to go down to the Chamber, _his_ Chamber.

Some of his memories were blurry, and he was pretty sure he was missing whole chunks of his time down there, but it didn't bother him. He felt there was a reason, and he trusted the feeling implicitly.

What he did remember was indescribable to someone who hadn't seen it before.

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

 _As Harry looked inside, he let out a gasp of wonder and awe._

 _The doors opened into what could only be described as grandeur. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. It was impossible not to. Ten stories to the start, and more as it arched to its peak. It was similar to the one in the Great Hall. The enchanted sky was on breath-taking display. Showing the world outside in beautiful detail._

 _Except for one minor adjustment._

 _The sky shown was a beautiful night. Stars blazed in the sky, casting an ethereal light over the hall, and in the image, creatures moved. It took Harry minutes to figure out that the creatures moving were, in fact, constellations. Scorpius was crawling its' way towards the big dipper, as Orion sat next to Gemini. Collections of stars were walking together and stalking across the vista. It was incredible to see the massive beings stride the skies like gods of old. Many of the constellations were unrecognizable, shifting from one form to another._

 _Holding up the enormous ceiling, were massive columns. Each one had an echo of Greek architecture, but were far more elaborate, gleaming with what looked like more of the curling runes, wrapped in long lines like vines around them. Each character glowed with a sort gold light, further taking this place into the realm of fantasy._

 _Just to his left there sat a massive curved opening into what looked like a cave. It was radically different from the hall in front of him, and he could see lichen and moisture glittering on the walls. Damp heat seemed to glide out to caress his face as he looked in._

 _Taking a few steps further into the hall, his eyes settled on what appeared to be some sort of podium. A wide set of stairs led up to it, and complicated patterns were inscribed into the pale stone. He couldn't see exactly what was resting on the platform, only that something was there._

 _Walking towards the object, Harry looked around him, trying to take in every detail of the beautiful, cavernous place. Between pillars, he saw doors that lead off further into the complex. Every door was a work of art, and each door was uniquely different. It looked like it would take days to explore this place. It took minutes just to walk from one door to another._

 _Coming up on the podium, Harry had to revaluate just how big it was. It looked like something from a king's court, or a church sermon in a cathedral. The last step was level with his head, and it held what looked like a book stand in it._

 _Stepping carefully up the stairs, Harry approached the stand. Resting comfortably in the embrace of the stand lay a book. In truth, the word book did not do the tome justice. It was massive, dwarfing even Hermione's copy of Hogwarts: A History, seemed that it would need two hands to pick up. The cover had a strange sigil emblazoned on it. Each corner was bordered with a silver metal, and chains held the book closed. Surrounding the glowing sigil, was a runic circle, the silvery light of the circle seemed to be battling subtly with the golden glow of the sigil._

 _Characters and runes seemed to swirl behind the cover in beautifully complex and hypnotising patterns. Holding the chains tight was a beautiful cross that lay firmly over the cover of the tome. It looked both ancient and new at the same time._

 _A gentle whispering came from the book. Harry felt compelled to touch the book. To pick it up and open it. Delve into the knowledge and secrets held within its pages. Just reach out and touch…_

 _He shook his head, trying to clear the strange thoughts. A shiver travelled down his spine. That hadn't been him._

 _Suddenly the book didn't seem appealing. The chains didn't look beautiful, they were a warning. Fear started to tinge the wonder that had filled is mind before._

 _He took a step back. Then another._

 _Light began to bleed from the edges of the book._

 _Harry turned around. Or, he tried to. Ethereal chains would themselves around his forearms, and crept slowly towards his chest. Ice and fire flooded his veins in an agonizing combination, rising with the climbing of the chains. They pulled tight and he was jerked forward. Less than three feet stood between him and the book. The chains were wrapped around the tome as well, and it seemed that the runic circle was pulsing brighter._

 _With each pulse Harry felt the chains grow further up his arms. With inching slowness, the chains were dragging him closer to the book. Full blown panic was ragging in him, and his heart thundered wildly in his chest._

 _The burning cold was at his shoulders now. Harry tried to force his eyes closed, turn his head, anything! At this point he no longer had any voluntary control of his actions. A strange hissing had filled the air. It sounded like a smooth, coiling voice, whispering to him. Hissing its message into his ear._

" _ͽϞ Shhh, little one, trust in us. Ϟͼ"_

 _Harry felt a calm acceptance settle over his mind, slowing his heart beat._

" _ͽϞ We are here to help. Let it happen. Let go. Ϟͼ" The voice urged him._

 _Harry felt the last of his resistance melt away. His fists unclenched, and his shoulders relaxed. Without him fighting it, the experience was almost pleasant._

 _Then his hands touched the tome._

 _Pain exploded behind his eyes. The chains that had felt like they were wrapping about his arms, now felt like they were sinking into his skin and binding into his bones. A heavy presence wrapped its way around his heart, and cold fire finally swept through his body._

 _The pain was incredible. His vision whited out, and if it weren't for the chains, he would have fallen to his knees. Every muscle in his body clenched up, and he could feel his magic flaring wildly. His mid was slipping into the darkness as he tried desperately to hang onto consciousness._

" _ͽϞ Little one! You must not lose focus. Ϟͼ" The hissing voice sounded desperate now. "ͽϞ It is almost done. Just a little bit more. Ϟͼ"_

 _Using every bit of determination that had served him through all his other life threatening situations, Harry clung to the last threads of conscious thought._

 _The pain had changed now. The cold fire was receding, and now a sharp pain nettled his mind, like a thousand needles being jabbed into his brain. Each point that was pricked by these fiery needles slowly began to weave a fiery web with each other across his mind._

 _He was slipping again._

 _The fire was beginning to settle into a warm haze now. It was an odd contrast with the cool burn that had settled into his bones and chest, where the ethereal chains and sunk in. In fact, he was feeling remarkably well, considering the pain he was in just a moment ago. A deep ache settled on him, and he felt utterly exhausted_

" _ͽϞ There we go. All done now. Ϟͼ" The voice hissed soothingly. "ͽϞ You can sleep, little one. We will watch over you. You need fear no longer. Ϟͼ"_

 _Harry let his last hold on conscious go, and faded into blissful oblivion._

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

 _Harry's eyes fluttered upon slowly, stinging as the poor, over stressed orbs took in the soft glow around him. The first thing that came into focus was the star filled sky above him. It hadn't appeared to have changed, except the constellations seemed to be gathered directly over his head. It was intimidating to be under the scrutiny of the gargantuan figures. Or, it would have been, if he had been able to focus on the thought._

 _Little bits and pieces of memory flashed before his eyes. A sentence here, or an image there. Half remembered facts bounced around his hazy thoughts, and he felt overwhelmed by something._

 _The next thing that came into focus was the dull buzzing in his head. He could still feel the sensation of the fiery web as a phantom tingle playing on his mind. It felt half physical and half… Something else. It literally felt like it was in his mind._

 _Suddenly his thoughts pulled together, and he sat up gasping._

 _He was seated at the base of the stand, and the book looked as if it were still up there. His legs shaky, Harry proceeded to stand up, using the edge to pull himself up. It took longer than he would have liked, but he eventually made it upright._

 _Looking at the tome, something had changed. The chains no longer help it closed. They had detached from the cross, except from the top. In fact, it now looked something like a rosary in truth. The cross lay askew on the cover, no longer perfectly cantered as it had been before, allowing more of the sigil to be seen. It looked something like a pentagram, but had odd lines running through it. All in all, it was a little off putting. More so was the fact that it and the runic circle that surrounded it seemed to float just above the surface of the cover. Still, he felt that it was safe. It felt something like an old friend, or a trusted pet._

 _Stretching out his hand gingerly, remembering what happened last time he touched it. His fingers hovered just above, holding back from touching the book._

" _ͽϞ Well, go on. It won't hurt you. Ϟͼ" There seemed to be a dry amusement in the hissing voice._

 _Now that he could concentrate on it, Harry thought it sounded oddly feminine for a disembodied voice._

" _ͽϞ That may be because I_ am _feminine. Ϟͼ" The voice chuckled. Could you chuckle in a hiss?_

 _Harry started back. Had the voice just responded to his_ thoughts _?!_

" _ͽϞ Unless you can see anyone else around here, thinking? Ϟͼ" He could definitely hear the laughter in the voice this time._

" _Uh…" He said intelligibly._

" _ͽϞ Look, if you just pick up the book, we can talk about what just happened, alright? Ϟͼ" The voice sounded slightly exasperated, and definitely feminine. Hard to miss now that he knew._

 _Nodding dumbly to no point in particular, he starched forth his hand again. As soon as his fingers brushed the cover, it sprung open, pages flipping past too fast to read. He caught glimpses of what he thought were strange magical arrays. Images flashed by too fast for him to grab more than a vague feeling of what they were. Something with wings. Another that seemed to be a coiling mass. Massive flames that filled an entire page._

 _Suddenly the pages came to a stop on a two page blank spread, bordered in incredibly intricate lines._

 _Staring at the blank pages, he felt confused._

 _As if in response to his confusion, words began to appear from the top of the left hand page, as if they were sinking through from beneath. The words that bled through were rather odd._

 **Ῐ** _Ah, a new bonder, and fresh from the linking as well! It has been a while since the last. Almost two thousand years, if I am correct, and I always am. Ah well, let us get to the basics._

 _I am, if you are still unsure, the consciousness of the grimoire. My name is Astaroth, twilight grimoire, thirteenth volume of the Dead Books of Azmaveth, not that you'll know who that is. Uncultured savages, the lot of you._ **Ῐ**

 _At this point Harry had to take a break. The whole experience was surreal. First a disembodied voice, and now a talking book. Brilliant._

 _Another flash of fear froze Harry. He remembered the last book that talked back to him. It was hard not to. He had destroyed it, just up the tunnel behind him. Tom Riddle's diary. Arthur Weasley's scolding of his daughter came to mind. Never trust any object that can think for its self._

 _Well damn._

 _More writing appeared under the short paragraph that was already there._

 **Ῐ** _Well, come on, I might have all of eternity, but you sure as hell don't._ **Ῐ**

 _Well damn, apparently this book was snarky. Just his luck._

" _ͽϞ He does get like that, but you are taking a rather long time. Ϟͼ"_

 _Great, the voice in his head was back._

 _Chuckling, the voice continued, "ͽϞ Maybe it is time I introduced myself. I am Binah, Sepharoth of understanding. You may call me Bin, if you wish. I am not fussy. Ϟͼ"_

 _Harry had had enough._

" _Right. What the_ hell _is going on here?" He shouted out aloud, his voice loud with confusion and frustration. "What the hell is this book, and what exactly is the disembodied voice."_

" _ͽϞ Ah, now we are onto the real questions. Just read the book if you want the answers Ϟͼ"_

 _Harry glanced back to the open pages._

 **Ῐ** _Right, let's get down to it, finally._

 _I, am a grimoire. Don't know what that is? It is a magical book of knowledge, if you want to dumb it down, and I mean really dumb it down. I hold the sum total of all knowledge possessed by previous bonders within me._

 _My purpose is to assist a bonder in the best way I see fit. Knowledge, advice, power, it all depends on the situation, and the bond._

 _The stronger the bond, the more of me that is unlocked, and the closer we are linked. The more trust we share, the deeper you draw my draw from me, and the more inclined I am to be helpful. Are you following so far?_

 _That ritual you just went through? That was the link forming. We are stuck together until death do us part._

 _Congratulations, you are one of the last Bond Holders_ **Ῐ**

 _Harry frowned. This seemed far too convenient._

" _You didn't explain who the voice is, nor why_ I _am bonded. That's pretty generic information, to be honest."_

" _ͽϞ I am a safeguard, placed on the grimoire to prevent corruption, and guide the bonder through temptation. Ϟͼ"_

" _Alright, so the book is dangerous?" He frowned again. "And why on earth are you speaking parcel tongue."_

 _A soft chuckle rolled through his mind. "ͽϞ It is the only language that I speak that you are capable of understanding right now. As the bond grows, we may, perhaps grow to understand one another better. Ϟͼ" There as a short pause before the voice, Bin, continued "ͽϞ You need not vocalise your thoughts, we can see quite clearly into your mind. It is a simple matter to read the intention behind what you try to ask. Ϟͼ"_

 _Damn it was creepy to have a question answered before you had even really thought of it. He looked back down at the page._

 **Ῐ** _Damn child should learn how to shield his thoughts. It's like a being in a warzone, the way he's broadcasting._ **Ῐ**

" _Stop!" All this information was starting to overwhelm him. "Just… wait. It's a lot to take in." If he was honest with himself, he was surprised he had taken the whole thing this well so far._

" _ͽϞ I am helping to keep you calm, and am assisting with your understanding of the situation. It is one of the advantages of the bond Ϟͼ"_

" _Right. Of course, how silly of me not to have realised." A bemused smile played on his lips, his mind too stunned to muster any form of irritation. "And what, exactly, was the reason this happened to me?"_

 **Ῐ** _Quite simply put. We were bored. Hardly anything worth mentioning has happened in the last few hundred years, and you are the most interesting person to have walked into the chamber in the last thousand years._

 _There was that twat who spent hours jabbering at the entrance a few decades back. That great big snake got up to go see. Came back eventually though._

 _Haven't seen it for a few years, more's the pity. Probably the best damn one of its' kind I've seen in the last five millennia. That damn Salazar actually got something right for once_ **Ῐ**

" _Hold on a second." Harry interrupted, shock clear on his face. "You don't mean_ the _Salazar Slythirin, founder of Hogwarts, parcel mouth and all the rest?"_

 **Ῐ** _Who the hell do you think taught him the art of speaking to snakes!_ **Ῐ**

" _ͽϞ I believe that is a little unfair, Astaroth. If I do recall correctly, I did lend a helping hand in the ritual and spell crafting to bind the gift, did I not? Ϟͼ"_

 **Ῐ** _Perhaps, but it is not within your power to command the gift, so credit where it is due!_ **Ῐ**

 _Harry was definitely feeling more than a little dizzy at this point. The sheer amount of information he had to assimilate from this one conversation was incredible!_

" _ͽϞ Ah little one, maybe now is not the best time to continue. Ϟͼ" Bin sounded sympathetic, and a symphony of soft hissing crooning floated to him. "ͽϞ He shall not leave you. Why do you not return to the surface, and think on what has happened? I am but a thought away. You are no longer alone. Ϟͼ"_

 _To his surprise, Bin's sentiment actually brought some comfort to him. The idea that he had an artefact like the grimoire brought a measure of security to him, and he felt tension melt from his bones. He finally felt that just maybe, maybe, there was a chance he could make it out alive._

" _Thank you… I think I should do just that." Harry replied. "ͽϞ The thought is appreciated. Ϟͼ"_

 _Taking a step away from the grimoire, he turned and walked to the entrance, oblivious to the wonders of the hall around him._

 _The journey to the surface felt much shorter than before, and he hardly noticed it at all. So lost in thought was he, that his focus only snapped into the present when he found himself walking up a set of stairs, to a block of light, that looked strangely like the girls' bathroom._

 _Utterly confused by the sudden appearance of the stairs, he could do little more than appreciate the convenience as he stepped out into the still flooded bathroom._

 _-_ Ȳ _-_

Snapping back to focus from his memories, he turned a smile to Myrtle.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Myrtle's small voiced squeaked out.

"You could say something like that." His expression shifted to one of bemusement.

And without a further word, Harry proceeded out of the bathroom, oblivious to the stares he got on his way back to the Gryffindor tower.

He certainly had a lot to think about before the end of the Christmas holidays.

 _-_ ῼ _-_

Author's Note

Well, that's chapter 3. If anyone finds anything unclear, it would be fantastic to know!

Also, in conjunction with this, or more accurately, for this, I have started a side story, detailing the history, magic, and magical creatures that I may include. This is mostly for personal satisfaction, but I will post it up soon. It is called Knowledge of the Grimoire, and will start off with an introduction to basilisks, for all those who are fans of giant killer snakes.

Please Read and Review!

Much love!


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